


A Werewolf and a Merman Walk into a Bar

by CheyanneChika



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Angst, Cliche, Derek Feels, Fluff, Full Shift Werewolves, Future Fic, Gift Fic, M/M, Magic, Merman Stiles Stilinski, Mutual Pining, No One Reads My Tags | Tag Wranglers Read Your Tags, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, SO MUCH Cliche, Shapeshifter Stiles, Stiles gets sucked into a magical whirlpool for the sake of the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyanneChika/pseuds/CheyanneChika
Summary: Derek wanders into a swamp and sees Stiles (the guy he might have a thing for) in the water.  Oh, and he has a tail.  A very large tail.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stilienski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/gifts).



> This is a Secret Santa present for my buddy. It's early because this fic is super long. 11 chapters all told. Last chapter comes out on Christmas, along with my name if they haven't figured it out yet...not that that's hard. Anyway Merry early Christmas...before Halloween even. 
> 
> The fic is NOT Christmas-y. 
> 
> Just fluffy.
> 
> ...and angsty.

“Shut up, Laura!” Derek roared.  He’d been home for ten minutes and he already wanted to shift, to bite, to tear his sister apart, but then their mom was there and she glared at them both with alpha-reddened eyes.  Derek met them for a second before he quelled.  But the urge to rip his sister to shreds was still there.  He needed to get out.  He stormed past Talia, shoulder-checked Laura and sidestepped his other sister, Cora, on his way to the back door. 

He abandoned his shirt on the porch, pants and boxers in the yard and full-shifted down to his wolf.  He was solid black but for a patch of grey on his cheek.  When they were teenagers, Laura said it looked stupid.  Dad said it was unique and Mom made her do the dishes by herself without the dishwasher that night.  Not that it mattered, Derek knew it was weird.  All black but one spot?  Please.  He’d never seen any other solid-colored wolf with a mark like that. 

The bottled up anger over that, over Laura’s comments on him, his horrible taste in just about everything and the fact that the guy he maybe had a thing for was a total spaz and even he wouldn’t want the creepy loner stalker dude who’d dogged his steps for the last two years after he’d graduated high school, bouncing between community college and his part time job making coffee, made him run and run and run until he was miles deep in the preserve.

Stiles Stilinski was cute and sweet and nice and remembered his coffee order and made him smile and smelled otherworldly, like the ocean and joy under the smell of hormonal teenager and Adderall, and Laura had implied that either he’d get laughed out of the state for trying to ask him out of he’d end up killing the younger man, just like Paige.

He snarled and slashed at a tree, leaving massive gouges.  He snarled again but the momentum was gone.  Instead, he made a slow trot until he reached a murky swamp that, despite being connected to a rather deep river, appeared stagnant.  He huffed slightly.  He knew where he was, about fifteen miles from the house.  He wasn’t even on the preserve anymore.  But this was unclaimed territory so it didn’t matter he was here.  And besides, he hadn’t been here for more than a decade.  The smell of the area had changed and his wolf’s nose took it all in.  There was the usual murk of stagnant water, moss, fungi, trees and animals but there was something else.  There was a smell of something fishy, more sea than swamp and something that reminded him of Stiles?

Human Derek would have questioned it but Wolf Derek just basked in it.  He trotted toward the swamp where the smell was strongest.  A half rotted tree had fallen into the water and floated a little.  He stepped tenderly on the trunk, letting it sink a few inches before stabilizing against the mud underwater.  The smell was dragging him along now and he moved very delicately along until he reached the bare branches.  Derek took some control back to keep his wolf from following the scent right into the water like he was following a siren’s call.

He settled on his belly and let one paw drift in the water.  A small part of him wondered if he was gonna manage to turn around without falling in but it was easy to ignore as the smell that seemed so like Stiles intensified.  He closed his eyes and relaxed, letting his anger go, for just a little while.

There was a splash but he didn’t look up.  It wasn’t a threat.  Probably a frog.  Then there was a voice.  “Aw, puppy, did you get stuck?”

Derek’s eyes snapped open just as a hand touched his paw.  He jerked up, feet balanced precariously, snarling as the hand was yanked back.  “Not a puppy, not a puppy!” the voice whined and he twisted around, sniffing and fixing his grey-green gaze on a boy in the water.

It was Stiles.  His hair was mussed and dripping but that wasn’t what really caught his eye.  It was hard to tell in the dim light and grey vision but did Stiles have scales crawling up his neck?  He took a step forward, forgetting he was on a flimsy tree in the middle of a swamp.  The tree of course, had not forgotten.  It tipped under the weight and dumped him into the water.  He yelped and then water filled his nostrils and mouth.  He snapped his jaws shut and puffed air out fervently, pushing the water back in a series of bubbles. 

Arms wrapped around his neck and then he was pulled to the surface.  He inhaled sharply and struggled against the strong arms.  “Okay okay, just stay above the water, yeah?” Stiles let go and backed up way too fast to be doing it on human legs.  Derek wanted answers but the wolf wanted out of the water.  He paddled slowly back to the shallows where he could scramble for purchase against the mud until he was out of the water.

There was a soft snicker behind him but Stiles didn’t try to approach him again.  Finally, he reached the shore and shook himself sending water and green and brown gunk everywhere.  Stiles laughed out loud and then shrieked.  Derek spun around in surprise, ready to fight, only to find that a particularly large piece of green glop had been flung from his tail into Stiles’s face.  Derek huffed as much of a laugh as he could manage in this form and watched as the boy dipped under the water and resurfaced with a clean face, his eyes sparkling in the dispersed moonlight. 

“I know, I know,” he told the wolf, “instant karma’s a bitch.”

He swam closer until he could balance on his hands in the mud and keep his head and shoulders above the water. 

That was when Derek saw the tail.  It was long and shiny and it was fucking attached to Stiles’s torso!  He knew his vision wasn’t great like this but it wasn’t that bad.  That was definitely a tail where legs were supposed to be.

Stiles looked over his shoulder, following Derek’s sight line to his tail.  He flipped it and made a small splash.  He turned back to the wolf and his grin was full of sharp teeth.  “Yeah, I bet you’ve never seen this before.  Of course, I’ve never seen a wolf in the wild before either.  Dad says there are no wolves in California.  I’m assuming you’re a wolf by the way and not like a seriously massive dog or some kind of dog-bear hybrid which is totally impossible because genetics but then again, look at me the human-fish hybrid.  Not that that really bothers me ‘cause my mom was a mermaid too—not too, exactly.  I’m a merman.  But like my dad is human so shifting for me is really easy.  This is just a half shift though.  Mom said that in full shift, we sort of look like giant tuna except we can move really really really fast but I need to be in saltwater to do it cause I can’t really breathe that way.  But I never got trained on how to do it ‘cause she, well, she passed away and dad doesn’t know how, not that he would ‘cause, again, human.”  Stiles laughed awkwardly.

The wolf stared at him in silence and Stiles grimaced.  “I’m talking to wolf like he understands me,” he muttered.  “I’m telling a freaking wolf my whole life story.  Get it together, Stiles.”  He’s silent for maybe a moment and then he’s off again.  “It’s just, I can’t tell anyone.  I mean, Scott knows, because of course Scott knows, ‘cause he’s my best friend, but like, he doesn’t really understand and he’s really busy lately with the new girl at school, Allison.  And she’s pretty awesome but all they wanna do is suck face and I know I don’t need air to breathe but they do and they’re really trying to suffocate each other with their tongues!”

Derek chuffed at him and Stiles grinned.  “See you totally get me.  I mean, I know if I get any closer, you’d probably rip my throat out with your teeth but hey, I really should totally not be in your space bubble."

Derek couldn’t help himself.  Stiles was just too endearing.  He padded back to the water and stood a few inches deep.  Stiles cocked his head to the side then balanced on one hand and slowly, carefully, held out the other.  Derek sniffed and let Stiles’s smell, ridiculously potent from this close, and then licked it.  He could taste the swamp water and hints of mud but also Stiles!

“Aw, you’re not so bad.”  Stiles smiled brightly and he slid a webbed, slightly scaly hand up to brush against the grey side of his face.  “You’re so soft and pretty, I bet I could find you no matter what.”

Derek started to flinch away but Stiles found the cleft behind his ear and sent a frisson of pleasure down his spine.  He leaned in automatically and breathed slowly.  “Good giant-wolf-that-could-totally-kill-me-if-I-wasn’t-a-merman-that-could-swim-away-really-fast.”

Derek hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he had to open them again to stare pointedly at the merman.

The nervous laughter was back.  “Look, uh, you really seem to understand what I’m saying and since I’m not the dog whisperer, I might be hallucinating but—”

Before he could finish, a howl in the distance interrupted.  Derek stiffened.  It was his alpha, calling him back.  He straightened and turned to go but looked back at Stiles, hesitating.  Stiles waved and backed off into the water.  “Go on, your pack’s calling you.”

Right.  Pack.  He turned, shook off any remaining water and started running back.  Behind him, he heard the telltale splash of Stiles sinking back into the swamp.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, such a positive response. Thanks you guys <3

It took forty-five minutes or so for Derek to get home; he was taking his time.  He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with anyone tonight…or was it morning now?  He had no idea how long he had lain by the water before Stiles had shown up.

Stiles.

Stiles was a mermaid.

Man.  Merman.

What the hell?

He didn’t really want to ask his mother if she knew if merpeople existed because even if they were werewolves, mermaids seemed laughable.  But, unless his fall into the water had caused him to hit his head and hallucinate, Stiles Stilinski, the guy he was crush--maybe having a thing for, was a fucking merman!

So he wouldn’t say anything.  He’d just check the bestiary. 

On the edge of his home’s clearing, he shifted back to human.  He approached the porch and found his mother sitting on the porch swing with his clothes folded neatly next to her.  Even his underwear. 

Only his mother.  He sighed and stepped up to grab his clothes. 

“Derek,” she started, only to pause as she caught a whiff of the swamp.  He bit his lip, hoping that Stiles’s smell was buried under his dip into the pond.

“Your sister is going to apologize for her behavior in the morning.  And you have got to stop letting her get under your skin so easily.”  Talia smiled at him with reassurance in her eyes and patted the seat beside her.  He sat and she leaned against his shoulder.  Sometimes he forgot how much smaller she was than he.  Trim and beautiful with layered muscle under her skin.  “I know antagonizing each other is how you two communicate but you both need to avoid pressure points.  If you push at hers, she will bring it back on you three-fold.”

“I know,” Derek grumbled.  “I just couldn’t take it.”

“I can see that.  Did you enjoy your swim in the swamp?  See any swamp monsters?” She laughed lightly.  Derek stayed silent.  “Derek?”  Then her eyes lit up with mirth.  “Did you see a swamp monster?!”

“No, jeez stop!”  Their voices would carry and the last thing he needed was Laura telling everyone he was crazy on top of being the loner stalker dude.  Talia cackled and hugged him.  “Don’t worry, swamp monsters are pretty much confined to Scotland.”

Derek took a deep breath.  So much for keeping his mouth shut and checking the bestiary.  “What about mermaids?” His voice was soft enough that he knew only his mom would hear.

Her eyebrows quirked.  “Did you see a mermaid?” she asked, just as softly.

“Man, merman.”

“Oh.”  Derek watched her carefully.  She didn’t look like she thought he was crazy, just that she was thinking hard.  “Merfolk are ocean dwellers, as far as I know, though that isn't much.  I don’t know a lot about them, save that they’re very rare now, thanks to all the fishing that goes on in the deeps now, but one that’s in a swamp is something I’ve never heard of.”

“He says he’s only half-merman.”

Now the eyebrows went up.  “You talked to him?”

Derek shook his head.  “I was a wolf.  He talked to me.  I don’t think he realized what I was but he noticed that I could understand him.”

“Hmm,” Talia murmured.  “Well, judging by how long it took to get home, I’m guessing his swamp is outside our territory?”

Derek nodded.

She shrugged.  “Then he’s free to do as he pleases.  Are you going out there again at some point?”

“Probably.”  Lying to his alpha was pointless after all.

“Are you going to tell him what you are?”

“No.”

“As you like.”  She stood.  “You should shower before bed.  You still smell like the swamp.”

Derek snorted.  He could smell Stiles.  It was going to be difficult to shower it away. 

…

“I’m sorry I was being bitchy about your giant man-crush last night,” Laura opened with when he came down to breakfast the next morning.  “I don’t think you’re stupid enough to talk another alpha into biting him...again.”

“That’s nice, Laur, real nice,” Cora muttered around a piece of bacon.

Laura shrugged.  “Mom said I had to apologize.  She didn’t say for what.”

Derek felt no qualms elbowing her in the back of the head at the same moment that Cora stomped on her foot as he passed to get to the kitchen.

“Going to get coffee?” his dad asked from the stove where he was making pancakes for the still sleeping members of the family.

“Yep.”  He grabbed a piece of bacon resting on paper towels and headed out the door, grabbing the keys to the Camaro.  Laura could suck it if she needed to leave before he got back.  He swore his dad sighed as he left.

…

“Hi Derek!” Stiles grinned brightly at him from behind the counter of the Beacon Hills coffee shop, Must Have Coffee.  Clearly named by a coffee addict.

“Stiles,” Derek acknowledged.  The first time Stiles had called him by name, he’d basically turned into a rusted version of the tin man.  He moved slowly and haltingly over, took the coffee he really didn’t actually need and left with a grunt that sounded more like a whine.

He’d, since then, moved past that.  But this time, knowing that Stiles was a freaking merman, had him locking right back up again.  “How’s my favorite frowny-face today?” Stiles asked, not missing a beat.  If he knew Derek was the wolf he’d talked to last night, he gave nothing away.  And this was Stiles, spazzy and…

And it had never even occurred to Derek that the younger man had secrets of his own.  He was so loud and boisterous and was that all to hide this huge secret, a merman living like a normal human?  Not that he had any ground to stand there with the whole secretly a werewolf thing but still!

“Derek?”

He’d been silent for too long.  “I’m fine,” he grumbled at last.

“There you are,” Stiles said.  “I was starting to wonder if you’d wandered off in your own thoughts.  You want your usual?”

“Yes.”

Stiles nodded and turned away, pouring black coffee into a to-go cup along with a squirt of simple syrup, which was more discreet than watching Derek add five fake sugar packets to his drink.  “Enjoy!”

Derek took the cup, brushing Stiles’s fingers and the memory of Stiles touched his paw underwater slammed back into him.

He lost his grip on the cup just as Stiles also let go.  They both went to catch it again but Stiles fumbled it over Derek’s hand and it hit the counter, the top flying off.

The coffee went everywhere.  Mostly on Derek’s shirt and shoes though.

“Oh god!” Stiles moaned, immediately pulling a towel out from behind the counter.  He started to press it to Derek’s shirt, looked up at the man’s stony expression (part because coffee was hot and part because he wanted very much to smile at Stiles touching his stomach but knew better) and gulped.  Instead, he shifted the towel to Derek’s still outstretched hand before getting another one.  “I’ll make you a new one, just let me mop this up real fast.”

“It’s fine,” Derek said at last.  He started mopping up the coffee, glad he’d gone with the black Henley and jeans instead of the grey.

“Ugh, Lydia’s gonna kill me.  She’s going to murder me very dead and she’ll be extremely beautiful while doing and not get a single drop of blood on her—except, well, maybe one, but it will artfully land on her cheek and she’ll dab it away with an embossed handkerchief and it won’t even smear her perfect makeup and oh god, I’m dead!  I don’t wanna die.  I’ll make an ugly corpse and Lydia will—”

“Stiles!” Derek snapped before he could go on.  Lydia was not really his supervisor but the owner’s daughter and resident genius and he thought she probably handled the books or something.

Oh and, to his chagrin, He was pretty sure Stiles was in love with her.  Derek had only seen her once or twice in the shop and both times, Stiles had been completely distracted until Derek had gotten right up to the counter.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, trying to get himself under control.  His scent told Derek he was nervous and panicky under the hint of medication that always oozed off him from the Adderall.

Except, he hadn’t smelled the medication last night.  Maybe that was why he’d only thought the air reminded him of Stiles instead of knowing immediately that Stiles had been in that swamp.

“Hang on, I’ll get you another one.”  In a matter of moments, he had a fresh cup in front of his face.  “The next one is on me too.”

Derek took the cup automatically and this time didn’t drop it.

He also didn’t touch Stiles’s fingers.  Without another word, or even a grunt, he retreated, dodging gracelessly around the next person in line.  “You’re not gonna dump my drink on me too, are you?” she asked Stiles in a playful voice.

“Hah, no.  Sorry about the wait.  What can I get you?”  The tinny bell over his head blocked out the answer as he left.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek couldn’t remember the exact time he’d met Stiles in the swamp, but he headed out there after dinner, figuring that, at the least, he’d catch a nap before Stiles came, if he came.

He reached the swamp, his paws turning the soft earth under his claws.  He settled by the shore, not wanting to risk being dumped in the drink once more and waited, breathing deeply.

He did end up dozing off because he was dreaming vaguely about running when a voice said, “Oh! You came back.”

He lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Stiles grinning at him from near where the river continued.  Had he swum all the way from Beacon Hills?  Was the river even deep enough to swim in at some points?  He vaguely remembered a drought in his childhood when the river was little but sludgy mud.  He wanted to ask but he couldn’t.  So he just huffed at the merman and resettled his head on his paws.

“Awww, see that? You’re used to me already.”  He swam to the beach.  “Didn’t wanna fall in, huh?”

Derek seriously debated nodding before deciding that that would be too much of a giveaway.  So he just watched and waited for Stiles to speak again.

“Can I pet you again?” 

Derek hadn’t expected that.  He lifted his head slightly and watched Stiles’s face, which had a look of longing.  “It’s just you’re really soft and you don’t have to come down here, I can come up there.  I just don’t want you to bite me while I’m beached ‘cause it’ll be real difficult to heal."

That was a new bit of information.  Could Stiles heal injuries the way werewolves did?  Ugh, why’d he have to go and be a real wolf?

Because even if he’s a merman, he might still freak if he saw a werewolf.

In the meantime, Stiles was still hesitating on the edge of the water.  Derek barked softly and put his head down, looking as on-threatening as he could without rolling over. 

“Okay, I’m going to take that as a yes.”  With that, Stiles flipped his tail out of the water and balance in the mud with webbed hands and walked on them the three feet of so to the dry-ish dirt where Derek lay.

That tail.

It was massive.  Derek still didn’t know what color it was, but it gleamed in the moonlight. It was close to five feet long and ended in another foot of fin that was thin and translucent and flopped limply against the base of the tail.  The wolf thought it looked mildly threatening.  It could pack a punch…or crush him.

The Derek part thought it was really awesome.

…And that it could totally crush him.

Once on land, Stiles flopped down, his tail slamming back into the water, disturbing the entire pond with water droplets that punched through the green-covered surface.

“I figured this trick out when I was little and dragging myself onto the beach was too hard, especially if a rock or something got wedged under my tail.  That’s also how I figured out I have to be in the water to heal properly.  That’s why there are so few of us.  If we get caught in a net and pulled onto a boat, we can’t heal from injuries and those nets are in no way gentle.  This is just like when humans walk on their hands.  It’s a balancing act rather than dragging dead weight.  I wonder if wolves can walk on their forelegs.  You can, can’t you?”  Stiles laughed and it echoed off the trees.  “I can totally see it where wolves are like way more intelligence and can do things like that and talk to each other but you play dumb to the humans so they leave you alone.  Well, sorta alone.  They still hunt you guys and that really sucks.  There’s no way I’m telling Dad there’s a wolf out here ‘cause like people would freak out.  ‘There are no wolves in California’.  If you’re not attacking people, then they shouldn’t attack you.” 

At some point, Stiles has dipped one hand back into the water to rinse it before starting to scratch behind Derek’s ear again.  He leaned once more into it and whined softly at the pressure. 

“You’re such a nice wolfy,” Stiles murmured.  He was careful not to put his face too near Derek’s and Derek appreciated it.  “So pretty.  Or handsome.  I haven’t actually figured out if you’re a boy wolf or a girl wolf.  Roll over, would you?”

Derek reared up to play snap and Stiles like he would another wolf but Stiles yanked his hand back and the smell of fear began to radiate from him.  Shit.  He slowly lowered his head, feeling bad and not wanting to see Stiles take the opportunity to push himself back into the water and vanish. 

Then Stiles’s hand was sliding under his jaw and lifting it.  His eyes met Stiles’s.  He couldn’t see their color but he knew they were a blazing whiskey gold.  Stiles looked at him hard.  “You’re eyes,” he said in a whisper.  “They look just like Derek’s.”

Derek reared back, paws scrambling for purchase and snarling in surprise.  How was this even possible. He had to get out of here now.  He turned tail and ran, disappearing into the forest, just as his apparently recognizable eyes started to glow blue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

“Was he there?” Talia asked when he reached the porch and found her waiting for him for the second night in a row.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Yeah, no.”  Talia patted the seat beside her.  “Tell me,” she ordered.

The order was open-ended though.  He could tell her that he knew the merman was someone from town.  He could say that it was the guy he had feelings for.  He could tell her that Stiles recognized his fucking eyes in wolf form, and wasn’t that crazy. 

No.

“My eyes started to turn blue.  I had to leave before he could figure out what I was.”

“Oh, Derek.  You know, even if he figures out you’re not quite a wolf, I don’t know if he’ll automatically guess werewolf, let alone what blue eyes means.  Hell, he might think it’s a trick of the light.”

Derek licked his lips and frowned.  “You’re taking this very well, Mom.  What do you know that I don’t?”

“Well, I did some research.”  She elbowed Derek in the ribs when he groaned.  “You didn’t think I would leave this alone did you?  You saw a mermaid in the swamp for goodness sake.”  Derek sighed very loudly, but didn’t argue.  He wanted to know what his mother had found.  “Now then, according to the bestiary, your father’s grandfather made the last addition on the subject of merfolk.  He wrote that they were nearing extinction and the few who could change their shape from fish to half human to full human changed, growing legs and walking among the humans, settling wherever water was deep enough that they could change and avoid being wasted away by the constant call of the sea.  He wrote that there was a pack settled near the bottom of Salt Lake in Utah, according to a nearby pack there who negotiated the territory.  Given the amount of humans in that area and the general filth of the lake, though, I doubt they have survived the eighty or so years since the entry was made.  I’m guessing your friend might be the only one of his kind here.”

Derek nodded.

Talia sighed and continued.  “If he’s on his own, even if he came into our territory, I wouldn’t worry about him.  We’re not exactly weak.  And I don’t think there are too many people hunting for mermaids these days, especially inland, other than the crazies who also think there are sasquatches roaming North America.”

“Mom, there are sasquatches roaming North America.”  Eight or nine foot tall furred creatures that were a product of human evolution gone wrong.  They retained the mentality of small children and, with no way to teach them without bringing their existence to the public, they continued to be wild creatures in the deepest parts of forested mountain ranges.

“Yes, but no one actually believes in them other that the whackos on TV.  The same can be pretty much said for mermaids.”

“Man, Mom, he’s definitely a guy.”

There was a pregnant pause.  “Did you check?”

“MOM!!”

Talia cackled and Cora stuck her head out.  “Is everything okay out here?”

“It’s fine.” Derek grumbled, trying to remove the scandalized look from his face.  “Go away.”

“But how can you be certain?” Talia gasped out on a choked laugh as Cora rolled her eyes and slammed the door.

“Because I know hi—” He stopped short and grimaced, already knowing it was too late.  This is what he got for talking.  He needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

Talia stopped laughing immediately.  “You know him?” she hissed, a snarl climbing in the back of her throat.

Derek wanted to run.  He’d been doing so well.  How could he have slipped already?  Pathetic.  He hung his head.

“Derek!” He didn’t need to look to see to red impinging on his mother’s eyes.  “Tell me.”

“…Stiles.”  The word was little more than a breath of sound on his exhalation. 

Talia stiffened beside him.  “Is that so?”

Derek nodded mutely.

“Well,” she murmured in the faintest whisper, “this is a problem.”

Derek jerked, animosity turning his eyes blue.  “You just said you didn’t care if he was in our territory.”

“That was before I knew he was a sheriff’s son.  If he finds out, who knows what will happen?  Law enforcement and werewolves do not mix.  They never have.  Just like we don’t mix with hunters.  Police are worse because they can drum up support that hunters can’t beyond their circles.”

“You really think he wouldn’t be sympathetic to us when his kid is a freaking mermaid?”

“Man,” Talia says, automatically after having Derek correct her all the time.  “You’re right,” she whispered after a rather long moment of silence.   “I jumped to conclusions.”  She sagged a little and leaned against her son.  “If you’re going to keep seeing him, we’ll have to figure out something.”

“Assuming he doesn’t figure it out first,” Derek muttered, darkly.  Because Stiles was smart.  He was smart and clever and had noticed immediately that Derek the wolf wasn’t like a normal wolf, or even a domesticated half-wolf.  Derek didn’t understand why no one else ever noticed just how clever the other man was.

“You think he might?”  Talia’s voice was distant now, both of them lost in their own versions of this problem.

“He might.”  Derek debated not telling his mother about the last thing Stiles had said to him but, well, in for a penny, in for a pound.  “He recognized my eyes.”

“ _What_?!” Talia yelped, leaping off the swing in a fluid movement to stare at Derek who was motionless on the swing, waiting for his mother to calm.  “I thought you—”

“Just my eyes!” Derek interrupted.  “He looked into my eyes and said they looked like mine.  I took off before they could turn blue.”

Talia’s mouth worked as she struggled to come to a decision.  “Go see him tomorrow night,” she ordered at last.  “If he figures it out, tell him.  If he doesn’t, I’ll approach the sheriff and determine how to proceed.”

That pulled Derek up short.  “But you said—”

“I know what I said.”  Talia ran her fingers through her hair, not appearing to notice they had transformed into claws.  “But if you’re going to start dating a shapeshifter we know next to nothing about beyond how he acts as a human and the fact that he sometimes has a tail, we’re going to have to do this a bit differently.”

“We’re not dating—” Derek started, only to be interrupted in turn.

“The way your sisters tell it and your behavior over the last two years suggest it’s only a matter of time.  I know you think you can just pine away and never say anything but, Derek, we aren’t built that way.  Wolves want something, they take it.  We may be more human than wolf but humans can’t fight their feelings forever either.  And those that do are basically destroying themselves.  Derek, I won’t let you destroy yourself because you’re stuck in the past!”  She took a long, deep breath and let it out ion a whoosh.  “Go to bed.  I need to think.” 

Derek stood and obeyed, watching her over his shoulder as he tried not to think about what “doing this a bit differently” would entail.

…

Stiles was staring at a laptop on the counter when Derek walked into the coffee shop on Monday afternoon.  He had Stiles’s work schedule memorized and this was one of the much quieter periods of the day.  Stiles looked up and slammed the lid so fast that Derek worried briefly for the casing.  Stiles must too, because he winced and looked it over for all of a second before his eyes snapped back to Derek.

Derek inhaled, taking in the sharp and sweet scents that filled every coffee shop, but it was cut hard by the rancid fear that practically oozed from Stiles’s pores.  Even if he hadn’t stunk of fear and nerves, the uptick of his heartbeat, almost to double time, would have given it away.  He did his best to hide it on the surface though.  “Hi Derek,” he said, falsely cheerful.  “I still owe you a free drink.  You want the usual or can I spice it up?”

This juxtaposition of cheer over the fear threw him for only a moment.  He shoved down the worry that all but screamed: _he knows he knows HE KNOWS!!!!!_ in the back of his head and said, “Just the usual please.”  He even made the effort to smile.

Stiles backed up.  Derek looked past him and caught his reflection in a piece of machinery behind the counter.  The smile looked more like a forced leer than anything else.  He gave up.  “Stiles,” he started.

“Yes?” Stiles asked.  He was edging toward the coffee machine, clearly torn between automatically making the ordered coffee and not wanting to turn his back.  That was all the confirmation he needed.  Stiles had worked it out.  Not that Derek had made it even a little difficult.  He’d acted human, freaked when Stiles said he reminded him of himself.  It was stupid to even try approaching him today.

So he gave up.  He couldn’t stand the fact that the person he liked was terrified by his very presence.  He fought the pain and sadness and anger and frustration that longed to show themselves on his face.  Instead, he retreated, turning away and leaving without another word.

He was fifty feet away before the bell over the door gave a tinny ring but he didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, mini cliffhanger. This is the precursor to the BIG cliffhanger coming up. I hope you all are still enjoying this. I'm having so much fun with it.


	5. Chapter 5

“He knows,” is all Derek said when he got back to the house and walked past his mother to the kitchen.

She sighed and murmured, “That’s what I was afraid of. You should talk to him tonight.  If he shows up, you can find out what he wants to do.  I can talk to the sheriff tomorrow.  Unless you want me to take over right now?”

He’s already at the top of the steps before answering.  “No.  I’ll try to talk to him tonight.”  Then he stomped into his room and slammed his door.

His room wasn’t soundproofed and he could hear Laura say, “What the hell is up with Derek?”

“Stay out of it, Laura,” Talia almost snarled.

Laura tried again. “But he’s being all moody,” she whined.

“Leave it alone.”  This time, it was an order. 

Laura huffed and that was the end of it until she stormed out and then Cora asked, her voice soft, but Derek could still hear, “Is Derek gonna be alright?”

“I don’t know.  I hope so.”  Talia sighed and Cora said nothing more.  Derek flopped onto his bed and shut his eyes.  This wasn’t fair.  Why couldn’t Stiles just be a normal, spazzy human that Derek could ignore.  Why did he have to fall for a freaking merman?

…Fall for?

Well, shit.

He’d spent more time with Stiles in the last two days than he had in the last year—stalking episodes aside—and he hadn’t even been in human form.

But that didn’t matter.  Stiles still knew him.  He still acted normal.

Until now.

Now he knew.

Derek was a werewolf.

Stiles was afraid of him.

Why though?  He’d been hanging out with Derek without worrying.  Did he think that Derek would kill him for figuring it out?  Why would he think that?  He shouldn’t think that.  Derek didn’t want him to think that.

He got back up and walked over to the window.  He popped it open and climbed onto the roof before dropping off it.  He slammed into the ground and started walking into the woods. 

Somehow, he found himself just beyond the property line of Stiles’s house.  According to the schedule, Stiles should be off work and home to do homework by now.  Sure enough, the other man’s blue jeep was in the driveway he could just see, along with a patrol car.  The Sheriff was home too.

He strained his ears to hear them talking over the pounding of their hearts and the clinking of someone loading the dishwasher.

“—don’t know what to do,” Stiles was saying.

“We’ve been over this, Stiles.  Seven times since you got home this afternoon.”  The sheriff sounded worn, frustrated and nervous, all at once.  “If you’re sure you saw a werewolf last night, then you’ll just have to find another place to swim.”

“Dad, it’s not about that.  I can find another place to swim.  And it’s not like I think he’s gonna rip out my throat or anything...I don't think, anyway.  Besides, I’m not exactly slow in the water.”

There was an exasperated sigh.  “Then what is it about?”

Stiles was silent.  Derek strained in case he was just speaking softly, but Stiles continued to say nothing.

“Look, kid, either tell me the part you’re keeping back or don’t, but stop hinting at it and drifting away.  I’ve only got eight hours between shifts and I want to get some sleep before night shift starts.”

Stiles huffed loudly.  “Fine.  Go to bed.  I’ll finish the dishes.”

There was a long hesitation before the sheriff asked, “You’re sure?”  Stiles must have nodded because then Derek heard nothing more for a few minutes until someone started loading the dishwasher far more vigorously than before.

…

He jogged the fifteen miles to the swamp, taking the hours he knew he’d have to wait to think things through.  He tried to think about where they would start, assuming Stiles actually showed up tonight. 

_Scenario 1) Show up human_

_Stiles: So it really is you?_

_Derek: Yes._

_Stiles: You’re a werewolf._

_Derek Yes._

**_Good Outcome_ **

**** _Stiles: Dude, that’s so cool._

**_Bad Outcome_ **

**** _Stiles: I don’t think we can be friends…or whatever we are when you come to the shop and I spill coffee on you._

**_Worse Outcome_ **

_Stiles: The Argents are werewolf hunters.  I think you should stay away from me._

_Scenario 2) Show up wolfy_

_Stiles: Really?  We’re still doing this, Derek?  I know it’s you.  Fine just do that.  Look…_

The rest of that scenario drifted into incoherent babble because Derek really couldn’t predict Stiles’s thought processes.  But it would require him to do all the talking and Derek could just be silent and let the other man work through it. 

It was cowardly and pathetic but he couldn’t face Stiles this way.  If he did show up, what would he do if he found Derek there?  He was clearly more comfortable with the wolf than he was with Derek now.

But if Stiles was gonna be reasonable about the whole thing, maybe he could compromise.  He was trudging there fully dressed after all.  He could show up as the wolf and if Stiles actually went with the good outcome of Scenario One, he could go get his clothes and they could talk.

Maybe.

Stiles had said, after all, that he didn’t think Derek was going to rip out his throat.

…

He reached the swamp and took it in with his more powerful human eyes for the first time in over a decade.  It was bright with shades of green, sunlight filtering through the trees, casting a greenish tint to the world around him.  The water was, as usual, stagnant and covered in green mossy gunk, despite it being disturbed the last two nights in row.  He wondered if Stiles came here all the time and the gunk was just resilient or if it was possibly magic green gunk that was determined to cover the water whenever it stilled.

With the nemeton only a few miles away, he was willing to believe it was magic.

Or maybe it was magic because of Stiles.  He wondered if merfolk had any powers beyond shapeshifting.  His mother would have said if there was anything documented and the siren’s call that led sailors to their deaths was probably just a myth he remembered reading somewhere back in high school or heck, probably grade school.

If he got the chance, maybe he’d ask.

Still, for now, the wolf was easier.  Its thoughts were simpler.  He settled down to wait.


	6. Chapter 6

“Oh, you’re here.  I thought if I got here early, I’d have time to think about what to say.”

Derek was roused by Stiles’s voice as it penetrated the soft sounds of nature that he had dozed off to.  It was far later than he realized.  The sun was completely gone and the moon only minutely alleviated He lifted his head to regard Stiles.  The younger man was near the center of the lake, his movements only slightly disturbing the water around him.  Derek inhaled, taking in the smell that was undeniably Stiles, but searching for more.  The fear was there, but only a hint.  He was far enough away that, even if Derek had been the alpha, he wouldn’t be able to catch him.

Clever. 

“So, are we gonna talk or are you just gonna be a wolf all night?”

Derek cocked his head, trying to ask, _Do you really want to talk?_

Stiles either understood or just bowled on, regardless.  “I know you’re a werewolf, dude.  I’m also pretty sure you’re Derek Hale.  So either shift so we can talk or leave me alone because I do not need the stress of having a werewolf with unknown motives in my life.  I mean, I li—you’re a cool dude and you’re like always in the shop but now it’s different.  So what’s it gonna be?”

Derek got up and trotted away to find his clothes.  As soon as he was out of sight, he heard Stiles sniff.  “Fine,” he muttered.  “Be that way.”

It only took Derek a second to realize that Stiles thought he was leaving.  Growling softly, he shifted as fast as he could, pulling on his pants and just clutching the shirt in order to dart back to the clearing faster.

Stiles was floating on his back, hands behind his head, radiating frustration and anger, his long tail, which Derek was seeing in color for the first time was a deep blue on the sides, and presumably, the back, while the front was a highly reflective silver.  The gentle flipping of the fibrous fin at the end flicked at the green gunk that covered the water’s surface, allowing Derek to see flickers of glassy, black water beneath.

“Hey,” he called.

It occurred to him a split second too late that Stiles the merman would respond to being startled in the exact same fashion as Stiles the human. 

Which he proceeded to do by jerking, yelping, sinking into the water and breathing in with his lungs rather than whatever he used underwater.  He bobbed back out of the water and sputtered and coughed while Derek hid a smirk under the pretense of pulling on his shirt. 

“Don’t freaking do that!” Stiles practically howled the moment he could breathe properly again.  “Seriously, what the hell man?”

“You said you wanted to talk,” Derek said, still hiding the slight smile.  “I figured you’d rather I was dressed for it.  Even if you’re…not.”  With dawning realization, he wondered how he could not have realized that, tailfin or no, Stiles was naked.

Of course, in wolf form, so was he.

This was a line of thinking he _really_ did not want to go down.  The last thought he had before shoving all of that line into a secured box in the back of his mind was: _Where the hell is his di—_

“I…I thought you’d gone.”  Stiles’s eyes were lit with an odd, silvery gleam, as if they reflected the moonlight.  Derek hadn’t seen that in the wolf form, nor had he noticed the silvery sheen to the scales and webbing he felt on Stiles’s fingers where they rested on the dead tree, where Derek had lay the first time they met here, holding him out of the water.

“Like I said, clothes.”  Derek approached the edge of the water tentatively and then shuffled his feet, not sure what else to do.

“Yeah, you naked would be a total trauma for me,” Stiles retorted, completely lying and unable to hide the spike of arousal that permeated the air.  Derek just stared and Stiles flinched.  “Look, why didn’t you just say something the first time.  It’s not like I was gonna say, ‘Hey, look, there’s a werewolf!  Bring your pitchforks and torches!’ or anything like that.  I mean c’mon, I’m a merman.”

Derek shrugged.  “You’d be surprised.  No one would believe me if I said you were a merman.  But I know people who would sure as hell believe I’m a werewolf.”

Stiles cocked his head to the side.  “Really?”

Derek hesitated, then finally said, “There’s a family of werewolf hunters in town.  They have a deal with our alpha and leave us alone but we still have rogue hunters wander through now and again.”

Fear and worry drowned out the fading arousal as Stiles moved a bit closer to shore.  “You’re secret’s safe with me, dude.  I’m not telling anybody I found a werewolf.”

Derek felt a flush creep up his neck.  “I had to tell my alpha about you.”

“What?” Stiles yelped, rearing back.

“I’m sorry.  She was willing to let it go since this isn’t our territory but I slipped and said you lived in town.  She ordered me to tell the rest.”  Derek swallowed.  “I couldn’t defy her.”  He snapped his mouth shut then, not wanting to make any more excuses.

Stiles bit his lip, flashing a hint of fangs, before he swallowed and asked, “Is she going to make it a problem?  Because my dad can’t leave and I can’t leave him.  We didn’t know there were werewolves here but I’m serious.  Can we make a deal?  Like you did with the hunter family?  I can stay away if that’s what it takes, but I really can’t leave Beacon Hills.”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts with the younger man’s heart starts skyrocketing.  “She already said she’d approach the sheriff and tell him about us.”

Stiles’s eyebrows pinched.  “Why?” he asked.

It was Derek’s turn to swallow.  “Because she knows I like you.”

Stiles lost his grip on the tree and bobbed under for a moment before shooting back up.  “You what?” he choked out.

“I like you.” It was more growl than words. 

“You. _You_ like me.  You like _me_?”  The array of emotions was too much to follow.  Derek just answered the question by nodding.  “How?  Since when?”

Derek vaguely wondered if, ‘Since you were sixteen and Cora kept dragging me to lacrosse games,’ was a bit too creepy.  “Awhile,” he said, at last.

“That’s not a real answer,” Stiles griped.  At Derek’s continued silence, he just sighed.  “I like you too.”

Derek almost smiled, a shudder running down his spine at the words.

“Standing there silently is also not an answer, Sourwolf,” Stiles grumbled.

Derek remained silent and standing utterly still.  Stiles huffed and flapped his hands in the water for a bit before finally snapping, “Oh my god!  Are you really just gonna stand there?  Do you need me to grow legs and come over there?  ‘Cause I can.  I’ll be naked and extremely uncomfortable but I will do it.  Dude, come on.  We just confessed mutual liking type things to each other and now you’re just standing there.”  He paused for air.  “Then again, I’m just swimming over here, but that’s because it takes a few minutes to change back and really, it would be much easier and less embarrassing for us both if you would just come over here and kiss me so I can stop freaking talking about th—”

The end of that sentence was cut off by the splash of water made when Derek used preternatural speed and grace to run and settle on the still somewhat secured-in-mud dead tree.  Then he pulled Stiles half out of the water and pressed their lips together.

Stiles tasted like the swamp and sugary coffee and Stiles and Derek wouldn’t exchange it for anything else.  The younger man’s lips were cooler than his, but warmed quickly under Derek’s heat and suddenly probing tongue.  They held close for a long moment before Stiles pulled back, gasping.  “Dude, I need to breathe at some point.”

Derek raised his eyebrows and ignored the flash of humor in Stiles’s eyes as he asked, “Can’t you breathe underwater?”

“Yeah, if my gills are underwater.  You’re holding me too high.  He gestured at a loose flap of scales just below where the tail met flesh on his left hip.  There was a matching one on his right. 

“How do those get to your lungs?” he asked before he could strangle his own curiosity.

“They don’t.  It’s essentially direct download.  Water goes in, oxygen gets shoved into blood vessels, heart just keeps pumping along.  No lungs required.”

“Huh,” was all Derek could manage.

“You gotta admit that’s kinda cool,” Stiles said with a grin.  “Dunk me back in and then we can kiss til _you_ run out of breath.”

Derek couldn’t exactly say he was adverse to the idea.

Stiles’s scent turned nervous.  “Dude, we don’t have to.  Is that like a wolf thing, where you gotta be better at kissing than me?  I didn’t see anything like that in the research but then there’s that whole alpha thing and are you guys like real wolves where only the alpha can have babies in the pack?  ‘Cause that could get messy.  I mean, not for us, since like, neither of us are going to get pregnant or anything.  Oh, hey, I didn’t think of that before, but which of our genes are dominate, the mer-genes or the wolf genes?  What if there was a baby with both?”

“Stiles!” Derek said, halting the babble when the thought of making wolf-fish-human hybrids didn’t disturb him the way it ought to.

It should really disturb him.

But it’s with Stiles so…meh.

“Maybe we should just make out some more, dude,” Stiles muttered.  “Might shut me up before I say something that’ll make you dump me before we can even get started.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek said, at last.  Then he raised Stiles further up, though not so far that his tail was out of the water, and kissed him again.

This kiss was slower and filled with the brush of teeth and tongue.  Derek had never kissed anyone with anything but blunted, human teeth.  The sharp scrape of sharpened incisors over his lip was…exhilarating.  He wondered if this was how if felt for a human to kiss a werewolf in beta-shift.  He closed his eyes and focused on taste, touch and smell.

The air around them began to change.  At first, Derek thought that maybe it was the two of them finally, _finally_ , kissing that was playing havoc with his senses, but no.  He should be swamped completely by Stiles’s scent and his own, but the air was suddenly too crisp, too fresh—

And then Stiles yanked back from the kiss, biting hard at Derek’s lower lip, drawing blood.  Derek’s eyes snapped open in concern, worried he’d done something, but even as he tried to come back to himself, Stiles was being yanked from his arms, eyes wide with fear.  He gave a single yelp, grabbed at Derek’s still extended arms and gripped his hand for all of a second before the whirlpool that was obviously yanking at him reached the surface. 

The entire lake spun like water going down a drain, Derek could feel it rushing around his toes and the tree rocked beneath him as it tried to break from its spot, mired in the mud.  Water splashed wildly over it, soaking his jeans.

And Stiles was being hauled straight into the middle of it before either of them could say a word. 

Then he was gone and the water stilled, sparkling in the moonlight.

Every last bit of the green gunk that had clung so resolutely to the surface of the water was gone, leaving still, oddly crystalline water, now about a foot shallower, in its wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And....Cliffhanger


	7. Chapter 7

Derek stayed sat on the dead tree for a moment after the water stilled then leapt up, sinking knee deep into the clear water and sandy mud.  “STILES?!” he yelled.

The other man’s dark hair and beautiful face did not reappear.  “STILES!” he tried again.  Then, without further hesitation, he ripped off his shirt stepped onto the tree before running down to the branches and diving into the water, half shifting as he hit it.  As he’d thought, the lake was way deeper than it appeared on the surface.  The ground dropped off sharply and the light was patchy because the moon was so dim down here, but he flashed his blue eyes, making things come clearer.

The bottom of the lake was invisible in the dark and he knew there was no way he could swim it without going back to the surface.  He snarled at his own incompetence and shot back out of the water in the midst of his own air bubbles.

It was then that it really hit him.  Stiles was gone.

Stiles was gone.

Stiles was fucking gone!

He released a massive and desperate howl.

It was only a moment or so before a chorus of howls answered him, his mother’s the strongest.  _We’re coming,_ it said.  _We’ll be there._

Talia was the first to arrive, using supernatural speed and alpha speed to race, half-shifted, through the woods to him in a matter of minutes rather than the twenty or so it would take the others.  She found Derek sitting against a tree and going into shock.  Could werewolves go into shock? Derek wondered, muzzily. 

“Given that you just said that out loud, yes, I think you might be going into shock,” Talia murmured, sitting beside him, regardless of mud on her clothes and his sopping wet skin, and pulled him into her arms.  “What’s happened?”

“I—we were—and then he was gone—and all that gunk was gone and…and—”  So many words and none of them made any sense.  Nothing made sense because Stiles was just yanked from his arms by a fucking whirlpool.  It was too much. 

“Derek, I’m gonna need full sentences, here, honey.”  Talia’s voice was soothing and slowly bringing him to the present.  “Was Stiles here?  Did he come?”

“Yes,” Derek answered, still sounding vague to his own ears. 

“Okay, where is he now?”

“Gone,” he replied.

“Gone where?”

“Don’t know.”

Talia closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  “Did he swim away, north or south in the river?”

Derek shook his head.  “Sucked under.  Pulled out of my arms.”

His mom’s eyes were awfully wide and really red.  “By what?” she asked very carefully.

“Whirlpool,” Derek answered.  His eyes drifted from Talia’s back to the water.  Stiles had looked so scared, his whiskey eyes huge and round before he sank into the water. 

“Whirlpool?” Talia repeated.

Derek nodded.  “He was—I was on the tree and we were—”  He hesitated.  It was sort of nice to know that, even in shock, he didn’t want to tell his mom that he was making out with someone.  “I was sort of holding him out of the water.  Then the air changed.  Then the water.  He’s gone.  He’s gone, Mom…”

“Did you go after him?”  Talia was doing her best to keep him from zoning out, but it was becoming all too much as he relived those few seconds.  Had it only been seconds?

“Tried.  He was gone before I could…” he trailed off as another heartbeat entered his hearing range.  Moments later, Uncle Peter there, staring down at them.  “What happened?”

“When did you get back?” Derek asked. It was like his mind had been completely unmoored. 

“A couple hours ago,” Peter answered automatically.  “What happened?”

Talia looked up at him.  “Apparently a mermaid who lives in Beacon Hills got sucked into a whirlpool while Derek watched.”

“Merman,” Derek corrected softly.  “Stiles…”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up.  “Stiles as in the guy Laura says Derek has a thing for?  As in the _Sheriff’s_ son?”

Talia grimaced.  “I’m aware of the situation, brother.  This last revelation has sped up the timetable a bit.”

Peter gave the slightest hint of a smirk and asked, “Which bit, the part where the Sheriff’s kid is a _merman_ or the part where he apparently got sucked into a magical disappearing whirlpool while hanging out with a werewolf?”

“You’re not helping.”

Peter gave the appearance of looking contrite.  “My apologies, dear sister.  Please tell me how I can help you explain to the sheriff that his son was just sucked up in a magical whirlpool whose only witness is a werewolf that has somehow managed to go into shock.”

“You can start by shutting the hell up,” Talia snapped.  She focused back on Derek.  “Derek, honey, I need you to focus on me.  We need to get home.”

Derek snapped out of his stupor.  They wanted him to leave.  He couldn’t leave.  What if Stiles came back?  “Stiles,” he started but Talia gripped his shoulders.

“He’s not here and I don’t think he’ll be coming back.  We’ll try to find him but we can’t stay here.  This isn’t claimed territory but you called everyone and we can’t all be out here.  Don’t wanna make other packs nervous, do we?”  Derek shook his head, loyalty to the pack cutting through more of the haze.

“Mom!  What’s going on?”

Laura had arrived.  She took one look at Derek and whined in the back of her throat.  “What’s wrong with him?”  She was on her knees beside him in an instant.  “Derek?  Der-bear?  I’m sorry for what I said before, tell me what’s wrong?”

“Stiles…” was all he could manage.

“Stiles what?”  She jerked around to look at Talia.

“I’ll explain later.  Can you help me with him?”  Together the women hoisted him up.  “Peter, go back to the others.  Send them home and get the car.”

“Sure.”  Peter seemed to either finally grasp the gravity of the situation or was just taking it seriously since Derek really was out of it.  He raced away.

The barren stretch of highway closest to the lake was still about a mile and half away.  Derek was less and less shaky as they made their way closer.  He was walking on his own when they climbed to the slightly raised roadside and found Peter and one of the SUVs idling about fifty feet further down the road.  They climbed in and Peter hooked around, driving them back to the preserve.

At home, Derek was maneuvered to the couch and piled onto by siblings and cousins while the older adults stayed close or retreated to the kitchen.  Derek was content with the warmth of several bodies until he heard the slightly tinny sound of a female voice on the phone say, “Beacon Hills Police.  How may I direct your call?”

He stiffened and pulled away from the others to reach the kitchen.  Talia turned to face him with a look, but didn’t send him back to the puppy pile.  “I need to speak to Sheriff Stilinski, please.”

“One moment.” 

There was a soft ringing as the call was transferred, then a male voice said, “Stilinski speaking.”

“Hello, I’m sorry to disturb you so late, Sheriff but this is an emergency.”

“Ma’am, if it’s an emergency, you should have called 911—” the sheriff started.

“It’s a supernatural emergency, regarding your son.”

There was a beat.  Derek could almost see the man on the other end of the line reaching automatically for a smartphone.  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, but if my son is in trouble—”

Talia interrupted him again.  “My name is Talia Hale.  I’m Alpha for the Hale Werewolf Pack, whose territory covers Beacon Hills.  My son, Derek, witnessed Stiles being taken by supernatural means about ninety minutes ago.”

There was a slightly longer moment of silence.  “The Hales all live in that big house in the preserve, yes?”

“We do,” Talia acknowledged.

“And you’re son is with you?”  His voice gave nothing away over the phone.

“He is.  He contacted us the moment it happened.”

“And why didn’t he call the police?”  Anger edged his words now.

“There’s likely no reception out there.  He called to us the same way wolves call to each other.  I also suspect his phone was damaged after diving into the water after Stiles.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as possible turned out to mean fifteen minutes.  He’d probably run the siren the entire way, cutting it only when he’d been a mile from the house.

Talia went out to the porch to meet him.  She gave him a reassuring smile.  He ignored it.  “Where’s Derek?”

Derek didn’t wait for him to come in but stepped out on the porch.  “Sir,” he murmured.

The Sheriff’s eyes were hard when he took in the twenty-six year old, still wearing damp jeans and a muddy shirt.  “You’re the werewolf Stiles found in the swamp?”

Derek nodded sharply but didn’t meet the other man’s eyes.

“And you’re the same Derek that town gossip says my son is slightly obsessed with.”

Derek’s eyes shot up.  “What?” he started.

“He probably is,” Talia cut in.  “But now is not the time to worry about our sons’ respective interests in one another.”

“You’re right.”  The Sheriff shifted on his feet.  He was still very worried about his son and Derek could smell just a hint of fear, probably because he was about to walk into a literal wolf’s den but he wasn’t about to let that stop him.  “Tell me what happened.”

“Let’s take this into the kitchen.  Sheriff, can I get you some coffee?”

He raised an eyebrow.  My son is missing and you want me to sit and drink coffee?”

“Your son was sucked into a magical whirlpool.  You’re going to want coffee while I call my emissary and find out what he knows about said magical whirlpool.”

The Sheriff blinked a couple of times.  “He’s been going to that swamp for years.  He would’ve said if there was a chance of magic in that place.”

“I used to go there when I was little,” Derek put in.  “Nothing like this has ever happened there or I would never have gone.”

“Why were you there anyway?” the Sheriff asked.

“Come on.  Let’s not stand around out here all night.  He can answer your questions just as well inside.”

Derek turned and pulled the door open, holding it.  He followed inside and watched the officer take in the living room, with six kids and Laura all piled onto each other, watching them, and then the kitchen, where Peter and Derek’s father waited.

They sat at the table and Peter got mugs after a glare from his sister before she poured out the carafe her husband had started the moment they hear the siren in the distance.  “I’m going to call our emissary,” Talia said.  “Derek, answer his questions.  Peter, don’t say anything.”

Peter smirked and took a long sip of his drink.

“Derek?” the Sheriff asked.  He had his hands wrapped around the mug for warmth, but he wasn’t drinking it.

Derek swallowed.  He didn’t know what to say, where to begin, he was staring at the father of the guy who he’d been kissing one second and had lost completely in the next.

“My son said he thought he met a werewolf when he was swimming.  That was you?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek muttered.  He stared at his own coffee, wishing that it wasn’t from here.  Wishing that Stiles had made it.  He hadn’t gotten coffee from Stiles today.  No, Stiles had been scared of him.

Even though they’d talked and made up and wanted to make it work, now he was gone.  Derek took a shaky breath.  He reached for his anchor, the family around him, and tried to settle again. 

“Why were you out there?”

“I wanted to talk.  I scared him at the coffee shop.”

“What did you do?”  Anger was creeping back into his words.

“Nothing.  I think he knew what I was by then but he started to panic when I came in so I left.”  Derek tried not to shudder at the reminder of the fear in Stiles’s pores.  Fear that he was sure had been on him when he’d been sucked under, buried under that sharp, too clean smell.

A smell that must have been the magic, or the magic worker.

The sheriff nodded.  “You said you hadn’t been to the swamp in years.  Why did you go there at all?”

Derek hunched.  “I was angry.  I went for a run and I recognized the area and…and the smell near the lake reminded me of Stiles.  It was calming.”

“Why didn’t realize Stiles hung out there if you knew the…scent.”  The Sheriff grimaced at that.  Derek couldn’t blame him.  It was a lot to take in, even if he did know about the supernatural already.

Derek considered.  “It wasn’t exact.  He always smells like Adderall.  That wasn't there.”

“Ah.”  The Sheriff nodded.  “He burns it off when he changes almost immediately.  Swimming tires him enough to keep back the effects from the lack of it.  He always needs more when he gets home.  How long have you two been meeting like this?”

Derek looked up sharply.  “Just the last three days,” he replied. 

“So you two didn’t know about each other when you started dating.”

Every single person in the room stiffened.  Derek’s eyes went wide.  “No, sir.  We weren’t dating.  Tonight was the first time we even kiss—” he stopped dead.

One eyebrow went up on the Sheriff’s face and he gave Derek a skeptical look.  “My son tells me, explicit detail, every chance he gets about every time you walk into the coffee shop.  I just assumed he was using it to keep himself from talking about your dates.  He can’t hide everything from me so he spills the lesser evils.  So I’m guessing you two aren’t dating then.”

“No,” was the fervent reply.

“But you kissed him.”

“I—” Derek was getting turned around.  He closed his mouth and tried to figure out what he could say now.  Why did words have to be so damn hard?

“Tell me what happened with the whirlpool,” the Sheriff said, at last, taking pity on Derek.

This, at least, he could relay.  “We were in the lake, sort of…we were sitting on a dead tree so he could keep his tail in the water.”

There was a rather loud snort from Peter’s direction but everyone ignored it.

“We were sitting,” Derek repeated.  “And then the air changed and the water started getting sucked down and it yanked Stiles with it.”

“But not you.”

Derek shook his head.  "The bottom of the lake drops really fast.  Maybe it was too shallow for me…but that doesn’t make sense because I felt the water move, but it wasn’t strong.  It didn’t pull on me, but it yanked him.  And then he was gone.”  Negative emotions welled up in him again and his eyes flashed as he struggled with them.

The Sheriff jerked back.  “That a werewolf thing?” he asked no one in particular.

“Yep,” Peter said, flashing golden eyes.  “My sister’s are red.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say to that.

“Deaton says he’ll ‘look into magically manifesting whirlpools’.” Talia sighed as she stepped into the room, white knuckling her phone. 

“Deaton as in the vet?” Sheriff Stilinski asked.

“Yes.  He sort of acts as the liaison between us, other supernaturals and humans.”

The sheriff nodded, still looking slightly skeptical but gave up.  “What does he mean by ‘look into’?”

“It means he’s being cryptic.  But he did seem thrown for all of a second so he may not actually know exactly what this is.  All he muttered was something about Charybdis, whatever that is.”

“It’s a mythical beast that caused ate ships in the Strait of Messina.  Odysseus had to get past it and Scylla.”  Everyone turned to stare at Peter.  “What?  You people do remember I went to college, right?”  In the resounding silence, he sighed.  “Modern science proved it to be a natural whirlpool.  I don’t know what it has to do with this but it answers your question.”

“Maybe there really was a monster,” Derek mutters.

“And what, pray tell, was it doing in a swamp in California?” Peter asked caustically.

“Look, can’t we just—”  The Sheriff’s phone suddenly rang out.  He pulled it from his pocket and looked at it.  “That’s an international number, I think,” he said, still staring at it in some consternation.  “Do you mind?”  Everyone shook their heads and he answered.  “Sheriff Stilinski.”

“Uh, hi Dad, I’m in a bit of trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Handwavey stuff*   
> I like Peter and he has limited backstory.   
> In this AU, I want him to still be an asshole but not a crazy asshole.
> 
> Anyway, please comment, let me know what y'all think.


	9. Chapter 9

The Sheriff sagged in utter relief at the sound of his voice.  “Stiles,” he murmured.  “Where the hell are you?”

“Umm, Greece, apparently.”

“See?” Peter said.

“Are you okay?” the Sheriff asked, ignoring the younger man, who only looked a little righteously annoyed.

“Yep, a little banged up, going from the swamp to a basin along with all the fish in the lake with me, but fortunately, the people who did the spell are very apologetic as this spell was only designed to work on fish, not _humans_.”

There was a long moment of silence, before the Sheriff asked, his voice deadly calm and through gritted teeth, “Are you telling me you were sucked through a whirlpool in California to Greece because someone wanted free fish?”

There was a beat of silence.  “You say that like it’s my fault.  This is totally not my fault.  I don’t know how the spell even got me because I was barely even in the water and how do you even know about the whirlpool and oh god, Derek.  Dad, I need you to go figure out where the Hales live and make sure that Derek Hale is okay.  He was with me.  The pool sucked me in but I don’t know what it did to him since he’s like me with the—” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “—not exactly human part.”  There was another beat.  “How do you know about the whirlpool anyway?  All I said was that I was in Greece.”

Instead of answering, the Sheriff held out the phone to Derek, who was stiff and silent.  Stiles was okay.  He could hear him.  He had somehow ended up halfway across the world but that was okay because Stiles was okay!  Almost against his will, he reached out and took the phone, bringing it slowly to his ear.

“Dad?  Did we get disconnected?  I know the international call is gonna be crazy expensive but it’ll be worse if I need to call again.  Oh come on…  I guess I’m just gonna have to—”

“Stiles,” Derek murmured.

Stiles was silent.  “Derek,” he said, at last.  “You’re with my dad.  You’re alright?”

“I uh, it didn’t affect me at all.  I’ve just been worried about you.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet.  But I’m fine.  I’m stranded in a foreign country without my passport but I’m totally fine.  I don’t know how I’m gonna leave since I can’t tell them I was kidnapped via whirlpool and these people are pulling from random places and don’t have any way of sending me back but whatever.  I’m fine.  I’m not hurt.  Well, I’m a little bruised, but really, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Derek murmured, ignoring the fact that Stiles was clearly not fine, despite saying he was four times, but he really didn’t know what else to say.  He heard Stiles take a breath to cut the silence but then the phone was plucked out of his fingers. 

“Hello, Stiles, this is Peter Hale, you remember me, right?”

“…Yes,” Stiles said, surreptitiously.

“To be perfectly fair, you were, in fact kidnapped.  Go to the American Embassy.  Tell them you woke up alone, tied up, in a foreign country, escaped and would like to go home.  If they don’t buy it, go ahead and asked to speak to Gianna Gabris.  She’s a friend and a werewolf.  Tell her I say hi and that I’d appreciate it very much if they expedited you back home.  Try proper channels first though, I’d rather not expend that favor if I don’t have to.”

“Uh, thanks, Mr. Hale, Peter.”

“No problem.  I’m passing the phone back to your father.”  He held out the phone to sheriff Stilinski and found, yet again, that everyone was staring at him.  “Seriously?  I was gone, for a year, studying in Greece.  How have you people forgotten this?”

“Was that the year where everything was peaceful and no pack wars were almost started,” Talia asked, thoughtfully.

“I hate you so much,” Peter growled.  “So very very much.”

Talia just smiled.  Now that Stiles had been found and the secrets were all laid bare, she was able to relax a little.

“Son, have you got anywhere to stay for the night until you can get to the embassy?”  Stiles’s dad was getting back on point.

“Dude, it’s like early afternoon here.  I can go right now…as soon as I find some pants.  You may need to go find my birth certificate or passport or something.”

“Oh yes, time zones.”  The sheriff seemed to be in a mild state of shock and just going with it at this point.  “Alright.  I’ll head back to the house and see if I can find your papers.”

“Thanks.  Can I talk to Derek again for a moment?”

“Sure.”  He extended the phone to Derek again. 

“What?” Derek asked, taking the phone. 

“We need to finish having the conversation we were supposed to be having before the—”

“My entire family can hear you.”

Stiles paused.  “Before the other thing and then the thing with the whirlpool happened.  But just so you know, I will get back there as soon as I can, even if I have to jump off a peer and freaking swim it.  Just, don’t give up on us yet.”

Derek resisted the urge to say that he wouldn’t give up on them if Stiles set him on fire.  “I’m looking forward to it.  Come home soon.”

“Thanks, man.”  Derek could hear the smile in Stiles’s voice.  “See you soon.”

“See you soon.”


	10. Chapter 10

Soon was quickly becoming an issue.  There were multiple reasons for this aside from Derek’s continuous, low-level and probably unnecessary panic that Stiles was so far away from him. 

  * Stiles was missing a lot of classes on top of his shifts at the coffee shop. Fortunately, he wasn’t still in high school, but he was, according to the very expensive international calls Derek and he made, worrying about the college classes he was missing.  Regarding work, the sheriff called and said he had a highly contagious strain of the flu and that a doctor had told him to limit his contact with other people.  The manager was fine with letting him stay home after that.  
  

  * It only occurred after suggesting that he was missing that, in order to get to Greece, he would have to be reported missing. There were workarounds for this but this meant the sheriff would somehow have to explain why he made no mention of his son disappearing in the middle of the day.  There was also the issue that Stiles had been at work for some of the alleged twelve it would take to travel to Greece.  
  

  * The Greek Authorities were disinclined to believe the kidnapping story, despite the fact that he had nothing but clothes borrowed from the spell caster’s brother and a handful of euros (the two intrepid fishers felt very bad and so gave him a third of their earnings from the fish “caught” and sold that day) when he walked into the United States Embassy. Stiles did end up calling in that favor.  The werewolf had stared at him with raised eyebrows—ones that were perfectly trim and not at all like Derek’s—while he relayed Peter’s message.  Then she asked if Stiles had really been kidnapped and if Peter was, in fact, in the country and playing a prank.  He told her whichever answer would get him back to California faster would be what he told her.  She’d laughed and said she’d make arrangements.  
  

  * Flights from Athens to LAX are like $4,000. Talia was willing to pay for it but Peter’s friend said she would slip him into the seat of a drunk businessman too hungover to make his flight.  How she would manage this, Derek wasn’t sure, but he really didn’t want to know either way.
  * Derek had to be physically restrained a couple of times from buying a ticket out to Greece so he could reassure himself that being sucked through a magical whirlpool portal hadn’t left any lasting damage.  
  

  * Stiles’s best friend was not waylaid by tales of the flu.  He’d climbed into Stiles’s window after being turned away by the sheriff at the door.  Finding no one there, the sheriff had been forced to tell him that Stiles had been magically transported because he was a merman and that he would be home soon.  Derek had been annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t talk to Stiles for several hours while Scott was on the phone with him, telling him everything he was missing and waxing poetic about Allison Argent.  By the time Scott was finished with him, he sent Derek a text saying he couldn’t stand talking on the phone anymore today and please to call him the next day.  
  

  * It had been three days! Derek was used to seeing (read: stalking) Stiles every day.  To go from seeing (stalking) to kissing (once) to having to put up with only phone calls (not even Skype because Stiles didn’t have his laptop or a smartphone) was putting a strain on Derek’s tense nerves.  
  

  * Stiles had been without Adderall for three days. It was starting to get ugly.



And then on the fourth day, he got a text at about four AM.  _On plane to LAX. C u in soon_

Derek smiled in relief and fell back asleep, the tension easing for the first time since Stiles had been yanked from his arms.

…

It ended up being thirteen hours.  The reason it wasn’t longer being that Derek drove to Los Angeles to pick him up.  There had been extensive conversation about this, but, in the end, the sheriff had to work and going to the airport to pick up his son who was allegedly sick at home would raise some eyebrows.

So Derek went, bringing with him Stiles’s passport and Adderall.  He parked in what was probably truly awful parking but he didn’t even care because he was going to see Stiles soon, and maybe pick up where that kiss had left off.  He was so eager that is normally calm demeanor was almost interrupted.

Half an hour after he got there, it occurred to him that Stiles still had to go through customs, with a temporary passport.  He’d be there for at least another hour and he had had to leave the burner phone in Greece. 

Derek would just have to wait.

He got lunch.

He asked directions to international incoming terminals so that Stiles wouldn’t slide past him and think he’d have to get a cab.

He waited.

It was painful. 

And then he caught a whiff, the barest hint of Stiles that had him looking up.  Someone had come through customs that had been in proximity to Stiles for long enough that his scent clung to the person.  It was a young, heavyset woman with dyed blonde hair, brown eyes and wearing a tag that marked her a Customs Agent and she looked quite harassed.  Her eyes skimmed around and lit on him.  “You,” she snapped, frustration clearly getting the better of her.  “You’re with Mr. Stilinski?”

Derek stood, eyebrows rising with him.  “Yes.”

“You have his passport and…and medication?”  Her voice dropped lower, attempting propriety.

“Ah,” Derek said.  Stiles, without medication was probably more a hazard to the strangers around him than to him, at this point.  “Yes.  Can I see him?”

She hesitated.  Clearly the plan was to get the meds and shut the kid up before someone else did, but Derek put on his best innocent-pretty-boy-but-also-bad-boy face.  In high school, he used it to mess with any guys Laura was interested in.

It worked.  She smiled almost shyly, and said, “Briefly.  Come in and don’t step around the barriers.”

Derek obliged and followed her back in.  She led him past the normal customs lines to a private office space, using a door marked “Staff Only”.  Stiles’s scent permeated the room.  It was strongly tinged with sweat, hormones and stress.  She led him to a room split in half by a counter with a few computer terminals.

Stiles was on the other side of the counter and somehow taller than he’d been four days ago.

Actually no.  Stiles wasn’t taller.  He was literally bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep focus.  His eyes were wide and frenetic in his very pale face, and he’d clearly been hiding how bad off he was without the Adderall.  Derek internally shuddered in sympathy at whatever poor person had had to sit next to him for ten hours on the flight to LAX.

“Derek,” he yelled, no voice modulation whatsoever.  “You’re here!  I called Dad and he said you were here, but you coulda told me.  They might’ve let you in sooner if they knew you had my meds.  Which, you _do have_ , right?”

Derek tossed him the bottle.

Stiles fumbled the catch and they hit the ground, rolling until the barrier that divided them, coming to a stop under Derek’s stretched out foot. 

“Uhh,” Stiles said, awkward.

Derek bent slowly to pick it up.  He was smirking when he met the other man’s wild, amber eyes again.  “How the hell did you make varsity?”

“It’s easier with a stick,” Stiles retorted without missing a beat.  Derek held out the meds and felt the warmth of Stiles’s fingertips against his.  They drew out the moment until someone coughed and a mini water bottle was held between them.  Stiles took it in his free hand with a jittery smile and started popping pills.

“You have to go back out now, sir.”  Derek glanced at the woman who brought him in.  Her smile was still strained, but a hint of relief cut through the sour tang of stress smell that surrounded her.

“Yes, ma’am.  Uh, how much longer is this going to take?”

“Now we have his passport—” Derek remembered he was still holding said passport and swiftly set it on the counter.  “—it shouldn’t be more than half an hour.”

Derek nodded and looked at Stiles.  “See you in a bit.”

Stiles nodded, a broad, longing grin on his wan face.  “See you.”  His fingers twitched in a wave.

Derek retreated before he could give into the urge to vault over the counter and hug him.  Why did werewolves have to be so goddamned tactile?  He scolded himself.  He’d both seen and touched Stiles.  He would see and touch him again in thirty minutes.  He could control himself.

Forty-seven minutes and twelve seconds later, Stiles emerged from the main customs exit.  Derek stood and let Stiles barrel into him in the most cliché, reuniting-in-the-airport way possible.  Derek would groan if things like this happened in a movie he was watching, and yet…

Well, Stiles felt really good in his arms.

Derek was going to be hard pressed to let the younger man go.

He’d be able to manage it in five minutes.

Stiles lifted his face from Derek’s shoulder and pressed their lips together.

Maybe ten minutes.

“Mr. Stilinski!” a voice rang out, echoing in the huge building.

Derek glanced past Stiles to see the woman from before wielding Stiles’s passport.  Derek sighed and released Stiles.  “Your passport,” he rumbled in Stiles’s ear.

His eyes went comically wide and he pin-wheeled around to get it.


	11. Epilogue

The talk that they were supposed to have been having before Stiles ended up in Greece took the entire drive home and basically boiled down to:

Stiles: So you’re a werewolf.

Derek: And you’re a merman.

Stiles: You think we can make this work?

Derek: Do you want it to work?

Stiles: Yes.

Derek: Me too.

There was some extra explain-y stuff about Stiles’s use of a very old crush on Lydia Martin to hide his attraction to Derek, his favorite customer who, despite what everyone he’d ever asked, was not a total grump who liked to stare silently at people until they got uncomfortable, but it got very complicated and involved a lot of hand gestures Derek couldn’t really watch because he was supposed to be paying attention to the road.

They also talked about Derek’s family and the fact that Stiles technically lived in their territory, but Derek’s mom and Stiles’s dad had hashed out an official deal while Stiles was gone.  They were now friends of the pack with an option to join should they want to.

Stiles was ready to join before they even discussed how a relationship was supposed to fit into all this.

When they got back to Beacon Hills, Derek pulled up outside of Stiles’s house and stopped the car.  Stiles turned to him.  While they had been driving, it was like they were in a timeless bubble.  They had just talked and planned for the future but now they were here, about to set that future in action.  The moment Stiles got out of his car, Derek knew that everything would change.

Stiles seemed to realize it too.  He turned to Derek and closed the gap between them with a gentle kiss.  “Meet me in our usual spot?”

“Sure,” Derek replied against Stiles’s soft, pliant lips.

“You gonna wear pants?” Stiles asked, a laugh in his voice.

Derek’s eyebrows went up.  “Are you?”

Stiles grinned and Derek caught a flash of sharp points of teeth.  “Nah.  But maybe I’ll wear a purple shell bikini.”  Then he bolted from the car.

It took Derek until Stiles was halfway of the sidewalk before he got the joke.  He couldn’t help it.  He laughed.

Stiles stopped dead and turned around, eyes wide.  He’d made Derek laugh.  He started back for the car but Derek just grinned with his own sharp teeth and called, “See you tonight,” through the open window.  Then he drove away.

The smile didn’t leave his lips.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the positive reviews and the so very many kudos. I love you all!!
> 
> Merry Christmas, Stilienski!!!!! -C


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